


Christmas Day with the Potter-Malfoys

by Ladderofyears



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Big family, Caring Draco, Children's Uncontrollable Magic, Christmas, Christmas Dinner, Christmas Fluff, Cooking, Domestic Bliss, Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson Friendship, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Established Relationship, Family Dynamics, Good Husband Harry, Good Parent Draco Malfoy, Harry/Draco Owlpost 2020, Interfering Parent Narcissa, Kid Fic, M/M, Married Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Married Theo/Pansy, Mpreg, Overwrought Pansy, Parenthood, Peacekeeper! Draco, Pregnancy Test, Pregnant Draco Malfoy, Worried Dad! Harry, parenting teenagers, totally fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27387157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladderofyears/pseuds/Ladderofyears
Summary: It's Christmas Day at the Potter-Malfoy house in Chelsea.Join Draco Malfoy - thirty-six and already a father of four - as he copes with Harry's inability to let their teenage daughter grow up, their squabbling, magical twin boys and the most theatrical toddler in England. Will he ever find the five little minutes that he so desperately needs?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 17
Kudos: 312
Collections: Harry/Draco Owlpost 2020





	Christmas Day with the Potter-Malfoys

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Enchanted_Jae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchanted_Jae/gifts).



> My dear Enchanted_Jae. Have a very Happy Christmas and a safe and prosperous 2021 my love. 
> 
> I hope you like this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Draco stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. For a thirty-six year old man, and the father of four beautiful, busy, exhausting and really rather wonderful Potter-Malfoys, he honestly didn’t think that he looked all _that_ terrible. His hair might have been a bit whiter that it’d been at seventeen but he could live with that. At least he wasn’t shot through with grey like his husband. 

There might have been a few lines beside his eyes too but Draco didn’t mind those either. They were the signs of a life well lived. Draco wouldn’t have swapped his existence with any person in the whole wizarding world. The wizard sighed and looked at the chipped wood on the back of the bathroom door. It definitely needed a re-paint but that was a job for the New Year. 

Five minutes. Five tiny minutes. Then he’d have his answer. 

Five minutes was a big ask – especially on Christmas Day – but that was all the time he needed. 

Sitting down on the edge of the bath, Draco fiddled with the small cardboard box that he’d just taken out of the medicine cabinet. It was a pregnancy test that he’d brought from the Apothecary on Diagon Alley only two days before. Right now, though it didn’t look like one. Still the canny Slytherin of his youth, Draco had transfigured the packaging to look like off-putting fungal foot cream and luckily not a soul in his family had gotten suspicious. 

Draco let his hand rest on the soft, squishy skin below his belly button. He didn’t have the same figure that he’d sported at seventeen either. Four children from three pregnancies had seen to that. 

Still, hand on heart, Draco couldn’t say that he truly minded. He’d always loved being pregnant, carrying his and Harry’s babies to term and feeling them move and wriggle inside of him. Nothing could beat the anticipation of meeting a whole new person made up of the best parts of Harry and himself. With a wave of his wand, Draco spelled the packaging back to its original form and read the instructions. Nothing had changed from the last time, or even the time before that, but it never hurt to be sure. 

He needed to pee onto the stick, wait five minutes and then wait and see if the stick turned iridescent purple… 

Draco took a deep breath. Both his and Harry's lives would change entirely depending on the result. He was just on the point of pushing his finger under the tab when his quiet privacy was disturbed by a strident shout that made his ears ring. 

“Merlin’s _eyes_ , Daddy!” screamed Lily Narcissa from just outside of the door. “You’re so _bloody_ unfair. Everyone knows you were busy fighting giant bloody dragons, and trolls and bloody _basilisks_ but you won’t even let me go flying with Hugo! You’re the most ridiculous person that has ever lived!”

There was the sound of a door slamming and Draco felt his heart sink. It seemed his husband and their eldest were at war once again. Lily Narcissa was thirteen, a Gryffindor and going through the most aggravating stage of adolescence that either he or Harry had ever encountered. Both Pansy and Hermione had counselled patience – so much _patience_ – but occasionally Draco had found that patience wasn’t such an easy option. 

Lils was thick as thieves with Hugo Weasley and Harry wasn’t at all pleased with the idea. The idea of his precious little baby actually having a boyfriend hadn’t delighted him at all. Harry seemed to revert to some primitive caveman state whenever the subject came up. His stubbornness and ire on the subject was quite something to be seen. 

Draco stood up, transfigured the packaging back with a quick blink of wandless magic and shoved the box back behind a box of tampons. He couldn't do the test now. He’d have to find five minutes later on. Draco pushed open the bathroom door, only to find Harry stomping up the stairs. His eyes were dark and there was an obstinate set to his jaw.

“ _I’m_ ridiculous?” Harry glowered, hammering noisily on Lily’s door. “I’ll be even more ridiculous in a minute when I’m Apparating into the kitchen of the bloody Burrow and having a fatherly bloody _word_ with Hugo Weasley! Don’t think I won’t,” he threatened, his innate magic making the photo frames on the wall shake and quiver. “Because I can and I bloody will!”

That really sounded quite like the worst plan in the history of mankind and Draco rushed to his husband’s side before everything got even worse. 

“Harry,” Draco hissed, striding over to where his husband was stood with his wand already clutched in his fingers. Draco wasn’t sure whether he was readying himself to make their daughter’s door or whether he was about to go and give poor Hugo the scare of his life. “Please love, put your wand away,” Draco urged, wrapping his hand tightly around Harry’s forearm. “We talked about this, didn’t we? Several times? About letting Lily have her own space to grow up? Letting her be her own person? Let it go, Harry, please!”

Harry didn’t look convinced. It didn’t help that the pair of them been up most of the night charming the wrapping paper onto the last of the children’s presents. Every year the two wizards swore that they’d be more prepared for Christmas and yet, each year, Christmas arrived regardless, leaving the two of them floundering amongst half-prepared food and half-wrapped gifts. 

Harry rubbed at his eyes beneath his wire-framed glasses and then let out a slow breath, visibly calming as he did so. The photographs stopped shaking and some of the angry heat left Harry’s cheeks. 

“Hugo Weasley _though_ ,” Harry complained, his eyes settling on Draco, “and our lovely Lily? It hardly bears thinking about love! That boy can just barely string a sentence together. Besides,” Harry murmured darkly, lowering his voice. “I know what teenage boys are like. I used to be one.”

Draco shook his head and smiled at the vision of the earnest, infuriatingly gorgeous boy that his beloved had been, once upon a time. 

Hogwarts all felt like a lifetime ago, but Harry was still every bit as attractive now as he’d been all those years before. Harry had been so skinny, aged seventeen, and waves of potent magic had flowed from his every pore. Draco had been besotted from the very first moment he had spied Harry, but it had taken his darling a lot longer to notice him. That hadn’t been Harry’s fault though. He’d had a few other things to concern himself about when he’d been a teenager. Fighting a War and saving the world hadn’t left a lot of time open for romantic intrigue. 

Draco snaked his arm around Harry’s waist and took a step forward, crowding into his space. 

“Oh, I do remember,” Draco teased, brushing a kiss across Harry’s cheek. “And _you_ were a rather aggravating little git as well, far as I can remember,” he teased gently. “A little bit like another Gryffindor that happens to live with the pair of us. You two are peas in a bloody pod, Harry: Potters through and through! Now, I’m going to talk to Lils and see if we can restore some harmony in the Potter-Malfoy house before Pans and Theo get here? Hmm? Maybe you could make yourself scarce and check on our other three babies? They’ve gone awfully quiet. Always a worrying sign.”

Harry hummed his agreement, rocking his body into Draco’s embrace. 

“They have, haven’t they?” Harry answered, before kissing Draco back with a little bit more passion. “Perhaps we could pick this up later?” Harry suggested with a wink. “After all, it _is_ Christmas Day. Both of us deserve a little extra gift.” 

Draco laughed at his husband’s flirting, letting his arms roll up and down Harry’s back. The idea was so very tempting. He would dearly have enjoyed a couple of hours tumbling with Harry beneath their bedclothes. They rarely got the chance for much in the way of privacy and hadn’t the luxury of a decadent afternoon in bed for what seemed like half a decade. It wasn’t as if the two of them had enjoyed all that had long at all as a couple before Draco had fallen pregnant for the first time. 

Draco still remembered the day as clearly as if it had been yesterday. He’d only been twenty-two. Wet behind the ears and scarcely more than a child himself. Harry and he had taken a trip to St Mungos, desperately worried about the nausea and exhaustion that he’d begun to suffer from nearly everyday. 

Draco, half-convinced that he’d been hit with some stray, fatal curse, had sobbed in shock when the Healer had told him that it was actually wonderful – shocking, _terrifying_ – news instead. He had been expecting their baby. Lily Narcissa had arrived seven and a half months later, mewling, purple and utterly perfect, and neither his nor Harry’s life had ever been the same since. 

Draco let his hands ghost lightly over his husband’s bottom. Harry was still so sexy, with his muscular physique and his stubbled chin. “I’ll have to hold you to that promise,” Draco e said. “ _Mmm_. You know what I’m like. Always liked pressies.” 

The words were no sooner out of Draco’s mouth when a sudden, massive crash reverberated through the house. They pulled apart, their delicious sexual tension dying faster than a vampire in the spring sunshine. 

Harry rolled his eyes before diving off running in the direction of the noise to see what pandemonium had occurred. 

Draco wasn’t terribly worried though. Their house was swathed in a million and three child-proofing cushioning spells and both Harry and he had their wands on their person. There was a limit to how much chaos could realistically take place. It was most likely some explosion of natural, innate magic. Their twins, Scorpius and Jamie, were both nine and their magic was wild and unrestrained. 

Yesterday’s disaster had been an indoor typhoon that had drenched the Christmas tree. It had taken Harry and he over an hour to _Reparo_ their baubles and dry the blasted thing out. It still looked a bit wonky and their living room smelt like scorched pine needles. The sooner that those two little Potters got their wands, the better it would be for their poor Chelsea town-house. Their piteous property could scarcely take much more of their children’s rampaging. 

When the twins were finally in bed Harry had wryly remarked that he’d seen less chaotic crime scenes and Draco shook his head, amused at the memory. He’d never have dared to get up to the mischief – and the messes! – that his sons got away with when he had been their age. His Father would have exploded in sheer shock at the mere idea of such mischievousness. 

Turning around, Draco knocked gently on the mahogany of Lily’s door and waited for her to give him permission to enter her room. He knew that barging in like a Hippogriff in a china shop would do very little to secure Christmas cheer and happiness. 

“Lils?” Draco said gently, when he was met with stony silence. “It’s just me, love. There isn’t anyone else. Your other Daddy has gone downstairs to see to the boys. Can I come in?” 

Draco heard the sound of a muffled yes, and then he pushed open the door. Lily was sat, cross-legged, in the middle of a patchwork quilt that had been a wedding present from Mr and Mrs Weasley Senior. 

A book about Astronomy hovered in the air in front of his daughter, but it dropped onto the faded material with a muted noise the moment that Draco entered. He didn’t speak for a moment. Dealing with Lily was a little like dealing with a spooked horse and Draco knew that calmness and patience were the best defensive spells in his armoury. Raised voices and badly thought-out declarations would do little to win anyone’s approval. 

He padded over the carpet and sat down beside Lily before picking up the discarded book. _“An Astronomical Treatise for the Night Sky?”_ Draco asked, flicking to the frontispiece. His own name was written there in smudged, scratchy writing. He realised that this must be his own copy, dog-eared from when he’d attended Hogwarts so many years before. “This is advanced stuff,” Draco observed, flicking through the pages of star systems and constellations. “You won’t get tested on some of these galaxies or planets until you’re doing your NEWTs, Lily-Pond.” 

Draco contemplated his daughter. She was entirely Harry and that was perhaps why the two of them clashed as badly as they often did. They both had the same thick, unruly hair, the same green eyes and the same stubborn personality, as well as the same affectionate heart. She was another bloody-minded Gryffindor, sent to Draco for him to love and look after. They were his life’s mission. 

“I was interested,” Lily replied sullenly, pouting as she spoke. She twisted a loose cotton from the hem of her cardigan and wrapped it around her finger. “Nana Cissy said that it was the best book to learn from. She got it me from your bedroom at the Manor.” She made a frustrated noise, knowing full well that Draco hadn’t come there to talk about the stars. “Daddy _was_ being ridiculous,” she finally offered up, her green eyes flashing. She snatched the book out of Draco’s hands and placed it on her bedside table. “He got all red-faced and miffed when Hugo’s owl came with my Christmas present. It was only a box of Bertie bloody Botts! Hardly a bloody engagement ring!” She bit her lip before she spoke, tears welling in the corner of her pretty eyes. “And I _knew_ straight away that he’d say no,” she said, a single fat tear rolling down her cheek. “He hates me. He never lets me do anything. It wasn’t like we’d even be alone!” She snapped the cotton thread in annoyance. “Rose would be there too, and a couple of the Delacour cousins too! Daddy _is_ ridiculous! He doesn’t want me to have a life.”

Draco leant over and took her head in his hands. He gave her forehead a kiss. 

“Harry can be a little bit ridiculous,” he said, “and yes, I think that he might have been a little unreasonable about Hugo, darling, but it’s not fair to say that he hates you. He _doesn’t_. If he didn’t love you then he wouldn’t worry.” Draco sighed, straightening the quilt below his fingers. “You know how hard it was for your Daddy, growing up. He didn’t have anyone looking out for him, caring the way that you do. He’s… Harry has so much love for you. Always has, ever since the day that you were born. But sometimes it overwhelms him. Makes him a little bit… Well, it’s like you say. A little bit _ridiculous_. But he loves you more than anything.”

Lily tilted her head to the side. Her eyes were looking everywhere bar Draco’s direction but that didn’t fool the wizard for a second. He knew that she was listening. “I suppose,” she murmured, working at a speck of loose skin on the side of her cuticle. “It’s still isnt fair though! All my friends are allowed to go flying with their boyfriends. Daddy is so _embarrassing!_ The way he rushes around without thinking. If you hadn’t come along, he’d have Apparated to The Burrow.”

Draco chuckled and his daughter frowned. Lily was right on the wand about Harry. His tendency to rush into situations had never lessened, even after fathering four children. 

“He might well have done,” Draco answered honestly, “and then your Uncle Ron would have sent him straight home with a flea in his ear.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Be a little more forgiving, sweetie,” he requested kindly. “You’re growing up and that’s hard for Harry to cope with. Family is everything to him – his whole world – and he’s struggling a little bit.”

There was a small pause before Lily nodded her assent. 

“Does that mean I get to go flying tomorrow then?” Lily asked, keen to press home her advantage. There were days when Draco couldn’t fathom how she’d avoided being sorted into Slytherin. He shook his head. “Harry had said no,” he replied, cutting off her thwarted snort, “and I’m not in the business of making back-room deals, Lily-Pond.” A brainwave made him smile and he pressed a gentle fingertip onto Lily’s lips before she could argue. “But I’ll tell you what,” he said. “We’re going to the Weasley-Grangers for Boxing Day lunch and _if_ Hugo decided to leave off flying for a couple of hours then I suppose I _could_ ask Harry not to be too much of an angry Horntail about the pair of you taking a turn about the garden? I think I could promise that much?”

Lily sniffed, sensing a compromise that she could accept. She didn’t want to keep fighting. Draco knew that she hated discord and rowing every bit as much as Harry did. “Alright,” she agreed with a little nod of her head. “But you’ve got to promise that Daddy won’t give Hugo the Head Auror glare if we as much as hold hands!”

Draco stood up. 

“I can make no such promise,” he said, picking up _An Astronomical Treatise for the Night Sky_ and handing it back to Lily. “Chapter three. There’s an extraordinary section on the Rho Ophiuchi Nebula. Read up on it and we’ll take out my telescope later in the week if you want,” Draco sighed, leaning over to brush a small kiss on her head. “Harry loves you. What it that the Muggle person says on your television box? Cut him some sack?”

“It’s _slack_ ,” Lily replied, flicking over to the page on the Milky Way, “and I’ll try, Daddy. Promise.” Draco thought she seemed to brighten and she gave him a lopsided grin. Draco made for the door. He had a day’s worth of preparation still to do for their Christmas dinner and the day was ticking away faster than grains of sand though a timer. She looked at him over the top of the book. “Love you,” she said just as Draco reached the door. 

Draco gave her a brief smile but he decided that enough had already been said. If hers and Harry’s détente could last the rest of Christmas he would dedicate the rest of the year to Merlin, Circe or any other deity that currently might be listening. Draco’s only hope was that that the boys would turn out to be easier teenagers than Lily had proven to be. 

As soon as he got outside of the room Draco took a deep breath. Everything was silent downstairs and he decided that Harry must have everything under control. That was a good thing. That meant he had a few minutes grace to wave a few tidying spells around the various bedrooms. Mother would purse her lips if she happened to see their current scruffy state and the last thing that Draco wanted was a repeat of Harry’s birthday party earlier that year: Narcissa had offered to send some of the Malfoy Elves over for a couple of hours each day to “keep the place from descending further into the mire, my darling.” Draco’s cheeks flamed at the dreadful memory. Harry had been furious at the criticism and afterwards two of his favourite people in the world hadn’t spoken for a month. 

Harry was a sweetheart for defending him – Draco appreciated it, he truly did – but Harry simply had no idea how far their lives deviated from the stringent, unforgiving pureblood culture that had been his youth. They had a television box here in Chelsea and Harry did their weekly shopping in a local Tesco. They even had Muggle neighbours. 

This was the life they had chosen – far outside of wizarding London, and the stares and curiosity of Diagon Alley – but even now, his Mum struggled a little bit to accept their choices. 

Draco didn’t regret a single thing though. He loved their Chelsea home and the privacy that it had afforded them. Harry and he had been free to bring up their children in the way that they had chosen, free from constant scrutiny from _The Prophet_ and their harping, angry headlines. 

‘Pius and Jamie’s room was the first on the landing. Draco winced as he opened the door and nearly slipped on a discarded Harpies tee-shirt that had been thrown carelessly to the floor. Piles of Christmas presents covered their twin beds, most of them still in their boxes, and Draco waved his wand, moving them into neat-ish piles on the nearby shelves. Frowning in consternation, Draco cast a clothing collection charm and whizzed all of the dirty clothes into a big pile by the doorway. 

This room really was getting a little tight for the two of them. Junior Quidditch pennants covered the walls, jostling for place beside posters of Chelsea Football Club, but there wasn’t that much that Harry or he could do about the twins being forced to share. A magical extension was out to the question because they lived amidst the Muggles and there simply wasn’t the space for a bricks and mortar job. It was a family bone of contention that the boys had bunk together whilst Lily and Cassie got their own rooms, but the nine years between their two daughters seemed far too much, especially now that Lily-Pond had Hogwarts exams to study for. Mother would have told them to pack up and move home to the Manor but Draco really didn’t want to. Their happiness was too precious. 

Besides, Draco loved their home. Harry and he had brought it fourteen years before, once they had finally gotten over the shock of their pregnancy. 

Back then, their house had seemed big for the two of them. Harry hadn’t wanted to live in Grimmauld Place and Draco had respected that. Every stone of that building had held bad memories for his husband, and each room had been full of the ghosts of people that he had lost. “I don’t want our baby living in a mausoleum,” Harry had said at the time, bringing back a pile of catalogues from the Muggle Estate Agents to show to Draco. “They deserve to live their own life, without the War casting a shadow over their lives. I want – _need_ – them to have a freedom that you and I never had.” 

Number Twenty-two Alexandra Mews had been the answer to Harry and Draco’s prayers. It was a town house in Chelsea that had recently come onto the market. 

Draco had worn a baggy blue jumper when the Estate Agent had taken the pair of them on a visit. He wasn’t showing yet, not really, but he hadn’t wanted to arouse any kind of suspicion. Harry had fallen in love from the very first moment that he had clapped eyes on the place. 

“It’s wonderful,” he’d said to Draco in the cafe afterwards. “Near enough to magical London that we could Apparate there whenever we wanted but not so near that there’d be any nosiness. We could set up the fireplace into the Floo system, easy as a charm.” Harry had smiled, taking Draco’s hand. “We wouldn’t defined by our surnames here. Who we _used_ to be wouldn’t matter any more. We’d just be another young couple, making our start in the world.”

Draco had been less sure. “You don’t want to look at any others?” he’d asked, sipping his fruit tea. 

“I want to put in an offer,” Harry had replied, impetuous as ever. “There’s bedrooms to spare, room to make an office so that I wouldn’t always have to slog my way over to the DMLE and the downstairs is formal enough to appease your Mum. You, me and our little one. I already can see how happy we’re going to be there.”

Harry hadn’t been wrong. They’d been given the keys within a few months and had moved in the next day. They’d been every bit as happy as Harry had predicted. As he daydreamed, Draco collected up all of the dirty washing into a bubble of magic. He sent it pinging up to the bathroom washing basket where the prying eyes of his Mother couldn’t cast aspersions. The twin’s room was still cluttered but it wasn’t terribly untidy. He’d give it all a good once-over when all the children were back at school in the new year. 

The next room on the landing belonged to Cassiopeia Grace. Draco entered the small, sunny room and magicked open the curtains to let in the bright December sunshine. 

Cassie was Draco and Harry’s baby, only four years old and entirely cosseted and spoilt by the whole family. Her room was the smallest in the house but – thank Merlin! – there wasn’t much in the way of tidying that needed doing in there. Draco scooped up her small stuffed dragon and tucked it under her bedsheets. Right now, Cassie might have been far more thrilled about the new toys that Santa had left in her stocking but if her ‘dwagon’ wasn’t immediately available at bedtime there’d be a flood of tears. 

Pausing before he left Cassie’s room, Draco cast his eyes over the compact little room. This tiny space held so many vivid memories, both blissful and sad, and he knew that if they were forced to move he would miss this little space the most of all. 

Cassiopeia’s room has always been their family nursery. There was an adjoining door between this, and their bedroom, and Draco had left their bed countless times at the night-time wail of one of their babies. Harry and he had charmed it cornflower yellow for Lily, mint green for the twins and currently it was charmed pale mauve with little unicorns for Cassie. 

Draco had cuddled their babies here when they’d had nightmares, and given them temperature-lowering potions whenever they’d been sick. Harry had done his fair share too, of course – he’d always been an enthusiastic, hands-on dad – but his husband was Head Auror for the Ministry. Harry had always needed his sleep far more than he. Draco let his hand drift down to his not-quite flat tummy. 

If they suddenly needed more room – and he imagined that they would, rather sooner than they might have planned – then Draco knew that their family would have some tough decisions to make. Right now wasn’t the time to be worrying about the future though. Draco spied a small burgundy jumper that had worked its way under the bed and _Accio’ed_ it into his grasp before sending it flying away to the washing basket. 

Draco yawned, a small wave of tiredness surprising him. 

He had left Harry alone with their babies for far too long and he didn’t like to think about what chaotic scene would be waiting downstairs. 

~~

Before Draco had even stepped off the bottom step he heard the familiar sound of small footsteps bounding in his direction. He scarcely had time to turn his head before Cassie stood in front of him, her small elfin face pouty with upset. She looked up at him, her grey eyes wide with unspent tears. 

If Lily was all Harry, then Cassiopeia was all Draco. She had the same silky blond hair and the same pointy chin that had adorned so many of the portraits at Malfoy Manor. Draco had found that Cassie was rather alike him in disposition too, which certainly made for rather interesting parenting on occasions. 

She was quite the most dramatic little witch that Draco had ever met. He wondered occasionally if he’d been quite as temperamental as a four year old and then worried that perhaps he might well have been. 

“Daddy!” Cassie shrieked, loud enough to wake inferi. “Daddy! Scorpi turned my new dolly _red!_ And he _didn’t_ say sorry! And then Jamie made it fly out of my hands and up into the sky! And Daddy Harry _laughed!_ He did!” 

She stamped her foot, every inch of her an indignant Malfoy. Draco shook his head at the sight, leant over and scooped her up into his arms. He was slowly getting better about not giving into her every whim, but a large part of his heart melted away every time that he saw her. 

“Cassie love,” Draco said, giving her a kiss on her soft baby curls, “what is it that Daddy Harry and I keep saying? No running at us, shouting, screaming and making a big fuss! If Scorpius and James have been naughty then that’s one thing, but telling tales isn’t nice to do baby.” He gave her another kiss to show her that she was still loved. “Shall we ask your brothers what actually happened?”

Popping her onto his hip, Draco carried Cassie through into their big room. Comprising of their kitchen, their dining area and a large den at the back, this was where the Potter-Malfoy family spent most of their time. 

Draco’s heart sank into his socks. 

It was a scene of bedlam that was every bit as bad as he had feared. 

Scorpius and Jamie had unpacked their matching Junior Nimbus Model 3000s that both had unwrapped at the crack of dawn that day, and now they both hovered above the settee, trembling uncertainly. Boxes and wrapping-paper had been strewn everywhere. The carpet was liberally covered in different sections of Pius’s scale model of the Hogwarts Express. Wooden toy dragons, hippogriffs and minotaurs were scattered all over the settee cushions.

Harry had his back to the chaos and to Draco’s vexation appeared to be deliberately ignoring the mess. All of his energies were focussed on cooking their breakfast. 

It smelt delicious and any irritation that Draco had felt melted away with the scrumptious, buttery scent. His belly rumbled in appreciation. With all the excitement of Christmas morning, Draco hadn’t realised how terribly hungry he had gotten. Placing Cassie back on her feet, Draco muttered a quick _Finite Incantatem_ that filled the whole room with a small wave of his wand. 

He wasn’t worried about it affecting Harry’s cooking in the least. His husband seemed incapable of using food preparation spells – a hangover from those foul Muggles that had raised him – and always made their morning fry-ups from scratch. Truth be told, they always tasted far lovelier than the posh nosh that the Elves had served them up at the Manor. The broomsticks tumbled out of the air and dropped onto the carpet with a small muffled sound. 

“Merlin’s bloody _beard_ ,” Draco said, as two matching sets of sullen green eyes came to rest on him. Sometimes Draco hated that he always seemed to be the one to halt the family fun. “I’m upstairs for ten minutes and I come down to this! James! Scorpius! Whatever were you playing at, letting broomsticks hover _inside!_ ” He tutted, thinking that he sounded rather uncomfortably like his own Father. “Jamie, you help Harry and set the table! Pius, you collect up this bloody train set! And what’s this I hear about you turning Cassie’s dolly red? What have we said before about teasing your sisters?”

Harry set a stasis spell on his frying pan with a tap of his wand and walked over to stand beside Draco. Draco rolled his eyes at the sight of him: Harry was wearing a dreadful apron that proclaimed that ‘Wizards do it with magic’ that had been a predictably bad taste gift from George Weasley.

“The red doll was accidental,” Harry explained, leaning over to brush a kiss across both Draco’s and Cassie’s cheeks. “ _Your_ daughter here decided to steal the train set from where it had been put away tidily. It was just the right size for her Magi-Ark creatures, apparently. When Scorpius noticed, the doll – and all of Cassie’s clothes – were turned a very lovely shade Gryffindor burgundy. Her dolly only flew into the air because Jamie wanted to fix it.” Harry smiled and picked up Cassiopeia. “Everything is fixed, love. No more tears need to be shed. Shall we all have some breakfast?”

Draco thought that sounded like a superb idea. Jamie had already got plates out of the cupboard and he watched as Scorpius sauntered through into the kitchen to help his brother. Cassie was left on the settee for a moment, her Magi-Ark creatures keeping her amused. 

Harry considered the sight of his three youngest before he spoke again. 

“Problems are a bit easier to sort out with when the worst thing in the world is a charmed red doll,” Harry observed, in a wry voice. He turned on the oven hob and then tapped the pan with his wand, their breakfast immediately burst back into life, fizzling and hissing noisily. Harry jostled the shiny sausages around the frying pan with a spatula, jumping back as they spat fat over the oven top. Meanwhile, Draco filled the kettle and set it to boil. He _Accio’ed_ his favourite mug, a dark blue Cornishware one that Harry had brought him during a stay at Shell Cottage when Lily was much younger. He picked up Harry’s Montrose Magpies mug from where it had been sat on the draining board. 

“You and Lily are two peas in a bloody pod,” Draco replied, dropping in two of his favourite English Breakfast teabags and fishing out a spoon from the cutlery drawer. “Both stubborn Gryffindors, both liable to dive in and start running your mouth off before you’ve ever engaged your brain.” The kettle whistled, and Draco added the water. He grinned over at his husband. “Luckily, you married me Harry and I’m a veritable _wizard_ at this negotiation business.”

Harry nodded back. He picked up the first plate from the pile that Jamie had left him and started filling it with glossy eggs and baked-beans. “You’re a wizard at most things,” Harry replied with a quirk of his eyebrows. “And I’m not sure about this _negotiation_ business means. I meant what I said before, Draco! I don’t want Lily off flying all afternoon with Hugo.”

Draco reached into the pantry for the milk. He broke the refrigeration spell on the glass bottle and topped up the mugs until they were the perfect golden hue for Harry and he. He added Harry’s requisite cube of sugar and gave his husband's mug a stir. 

“This, my dear Potter, is a prime example of exactly what I’m trying to explain!” Draco chided, taking their steaming mugs over to the table. “Our little girl is growing up but all you seem to manage is this awful Norwegian Ridgeback act! It’s hard enough for her already, being your daughter and sorted Gryffindor. The most famous bloody lion that’s lived in a century! That’s a lot to live up to, Harry.” Draco leaned against the counter top and found his husband’s gaze. “Just try to let Lily be her own person.”

By now, Harry had filled all the breakfast plates and had placed them in their families regular places on the table. Draco couldn’t help but feel impressed with his husband. Everybody had been catered for according to their own personal tastes: no hated beans for Scorpius or Jamie, and no sausages for Lily. She had been a vegetarian since the start of the school year. Cassie’s breakfast had been cut up into little pieces. 

Draco collected their baby and popped Cassie onto her booster seat. He _Accio’ed_ her bib and tied it carefully around her neck. He checked that the lid of her pumpkin juice was screwed on tightly and placed it in her chubby fingers. Then he sat down in the seat beside her. 

Harry drank a mouthful of his coffee before he replied. “You said that same thing upstairs,” Harry said glumly, placing the cup down on a coaster. He sighed and Draco saw some of the fight leave his husband’s face. “You know that I try, love. It’s just hard… Letting go. Accepting that Lily doesn’t need me as much as she used to when she was small.”

Draco lent over and gave Harry’s hand a squeeze. 

“She’ll always need you, Harry. However old she gets. You’re her Dad. No other wizard in the world could do that job.” Draco paused, taking a sip of his own tea with his free hand. It tasted… off. Not bad, exactly. Just different to what he was used to. Draco put down his mug. “And tomorrow? I’ve told Lils that she isn’t flying all afternoon but that if Hugo stays behind she’s allowed to take a walk around The Burrow garden without you even batting an _eyelid_.” 

Harry made a harrumphing noise and, with that, Draco knew that he had won today’s battle. Beside him, Cassie was busily dripping bean juice down her chin, while ‘Pius and Jamie argued loudly over which one of them would score the first place Beater position in the Junior Quidditch team. 

“Thank you,” Draco said to Harry before he stood up. “I left Lils with my copy of _An Astronomical Treatise for the Night Sky,_ ” he said, “and I suspect that she might have got a little lost in it. You watch Cassie and I’ll go and collect her.” 

He walked around the table and pressed a kiss down into Harry’s errant birds-nest of a hairstyle.

Harry tipped his head back then, catching Draco’s lips with his own. His lips were plush and warm, and still as soft as the day that Harry had first kissed him. It had been a cold, chill December day, just outside of the Ministry Atrium. That had been the same day Harry had told Draco he was going to spend the whole rest of his life kissing him. Harry tasted sweet, like the sugar in his tea and Draco felt a shiver of attraction coil across his skin. Draco could still feel Harry’s true love in each and every one of their embraces.

“I should be the one thanking you,” Harry replied when he finally broke their kiss. “I don’t know how you all put up with me. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Draco made for the door, a plan in place. He’d send Lily down for breakfast and then he’d sneak back into the bathroom. Take the five minutes that he so desperately needed. Nobody would notice that he was missing, because they’d all be scoffing, laughing and chatting. 

Sadly it wasn’t to be. As soon as Draco opened the door he almost collided with his eldest daughter. She still held the _Astronomical Treatise_ in her hands. 

“Daddy!” Lils said brightly, turning the book around so that it was facing him. “You were right about the Rho Ophiuchi Nebula! Some of these stars – _Antares, Scorpii_ – are the brightest and most magical in the galaxy.” Draco looked down, enchanted by the excitement in her voice. 

Astronomy was their shared passion. The book was open on chapter three, just like Draco had recommended. He cast his eyes across the words and the diagrams, recalling how he had read those very same pages at least a dozen times when he’d been Lily’s age. He’d spent almost as much time stargazing as he had obsessing about Lily’s other Father’s every move. 

Draco sighed. Lily’s Father, who was currently sat in only the next room, wrangling their other three children whilst trying to eat his own breakfast before it got too cold. 

He put his arm around his daughter’s shoulder and let his eyes skim over the textbook once more. “They really are,” Draco agreed. “When Antares is ascending, it can have a powerful effect on Moonflowers, Shrivelfigs and I _think_ , Aconite?” he remembered, guiding Lily back into the big room. “If you harvest them during the star cycle then their magical potency can be much stronger.”

Draco ushered her into her regular place at the table, pleased to see the hesitant – but very genuine – smile that flitted between Lily and Harry. 

“Our two favourite eggheads, returned to us,” Harry uttered cheekily, before taking a bite of his toast. “I’m happy that we’re all together now.” Harry tapped their plates with his wand, and in only moments, both his and Lily’s breakfasts were returned to perfection. 

Breakfast was its usual bedlam of loud arguments, dropped food and cheerful banter. Cassie managed to get one of her bean-sticky and rather greasy hands stuck in Draco’s hair but that was soon rectified by a _Scourgify_. A child’s dirty mitt in his gorgeous hair would have utterly horrified him, once upon a time, but now it scarcely warranted a second thought. He’d had things smeared in in his hair on occasion that would have made his seventeen year old self simply curl up and _die_ on the spot. 

Draco watched each member of his family in turn. 

Lily, so intelligent and passionate. She didn’t know it yet, but Draco was convinced that she’d change the world every bit as much as Harry had. Scorpius, so brilliant on his broomstick. He’d inherited all the Potter flying talent and Draco knew that he’d fly professionally when he came to leave Hogwarts. Then there was Jamie. Jamie wasn’t as good as his twin in the air but that didn’t matter a single Sickle. His talents lay elsewhere. James was some sort of Herbology genius and spent all of his weekends helping in his Uncle Neville’s garden. Draco expected that he’d design potions for St Mungos one day. Last, but not least, there was Cassie, his theatrical, lovely and very Malfoy-esque baby. 

Merlin, but Draco didn’t know how it was possible for anyone to love their family as much as he did. He was thankful for them, every single day of his life. 

And, of course, then there was Harry. Draco chewed on a mouthful of sausage and wondered to himself. If his little suspicion was correct – and he didn’t tend to be wrong on these things – then it was hard to know how Harry would take the news. His husband loved his children – worshipped them, really – but he’d made some noises about wanting Draco and he to finally enjoy a life of their own. He remembered how happy Harry had been when Cassie was finally out of nappies. Four really was an ample number of babies for NYC couple. 

Even their friends didn’t ask whether they planned on adding any more Potter-Malfoys to their brood any longer. 

~~

“Draco… Draco?”

Draco blinked, roused from his reverie by the voice of his husband. He looked around the table to see five sets of eyes, all of them staring amusedly in his direction. 

“You were away with the Pixies then, love,” came Harry’s teasing voice. He smiled kindly. At some point during Draco’s daydreaming Harry had finished his breakfast and had pushed his plate across the table. “I was just wondering when Cissa and Andi would be arriving?”

Draco cast a _Tempus_ spell. “Not long,” he said, looking at the shimmering clock dial that had appeared between the two of them. “Mum said that she’d come around a little bit earlier to look after Cass while we finished getting dinner ready. It’ll be a few hours before Pans and Theo get here though. You know how it is with new babies.”

Harry did. He rolled his eyes good naturedly, no doubt recalling all the times that they’d been late for dinners and get-togethers. They’d been a few times when the twins were tiny when Draco had despaired of getting out of their house ever again. 

“Sounds good,” Harry answered, putting on his mock-serious voice. “Okay, Potter-Malfoys. Your other Daddy and I will need to focus our attentions on getting everything ready for Christmas dinner so you all need to be extra good this afternoon!” Harry gave everyone his favourite Auror glare, which didn’t impress anyone in the slightest. “I don’t need to be tidying away snow spells from the laundry room do I, ‘Pius? Or finding anybody attempting to _Engorgio_ their pet goldfish, James? And Lily? No more owl messaging! Hercules is entirely exhausted after this morning’s trip to the Weasleys. The poor bloody owl needs his rest.”

Draco’s three eldest children groaned in unison. “You heard your Dad,” Draco chimed in. “You can put on your television box until Nana Cissa get here, but you’ll have to turn it off when she arrives. You know how the moving pictures always give her a headache.”

That was a compromise that seemed to satisfy everybody. Cassie was given some of the new colouring books that Santa had brought for her and Draco found the big box of wax crayons. She’d get bored soon enough, and find her way to the front of the television, but right now it did his heart good to see her settled and happy.

Harry speedily scraped and cleared the plates while Draco set the cleaning charms with a wave of his wand. It didn’t take more than a minute before the counters and tables were wiped down and clean. Harry – domestic deity that he _clearly_ was – had already been hard at work preparing Christmas dinner. The turkey had been cooking since not long after breakfast, liberally swathed in bacon, garlic and butter and it was beginning to smell rather wonderful. 

At the very least his Mother would never be able to complain that she wasn’t fed well whenever she visited. Harry had scraped the potatoes as well and they were sat soaking in a bowl before they saw the inside of their oven. Harry switched on the wireless and the two of them hummed and swayed to various Christmassy songs as they chopped, diced and shredded their various vegetables. 

Draco had only just begun topping the parsnips when he heard the sound of the Floo chiming in the next room. “That’ll be my Mother,” Draco said, looking meaningfully at Harry. “Now play nice please,” he said with a hint of warning in his tone. “I don’t want a repeat of your birthday. That wasn’t a good day.”

Harry made a small hum of agreement and Draco picked up Cassie. He, Lily and the twins ambled through to meet and greet his Mother and Aunty Andi. 

Narcissa was as tall, as beautiful and as imposing as ever and Draco pulled her close, taking in the scents of her familiar rose perfume and the scorch of the Floo power.

“Merry Christmas Mother,” Draco said. “You’re first here! It’s been a busy morning. We’ve had floating broomsticks, flying dollies, family rows… The whole gamut.”

His Mother smiled at that and Draco loosened his embrace on her. He gave Andi a kiss too, knowing that this would be a hard day for his Aunty. Teddy had gone over to France with his girlfriend Victoire’s family, meaning that this was the first Christmas day that he hadn’t spent with his Grandmother since he was naught but a baby. Draco felt a little tinge of sadness at the thought that one day his babies might not being around him on Christmas Day. He knew that every owlet had to fly the nest at some point, but right now even the idea of it made him feel a little teary. Draco felt a little silly at his emotional response and crying at the drop of a hat usually meant only one thing in his experience. 

“Good Godric, darling,” Narcissa replied, her voice amused and her eyes sparkling in amusement, “my Christmas morning consisted of a lay in and then I had the Elves deliver me a croissant in the Green Sitting Room. I can’t think how you _bear_ it all, Draco. You must be positively weary! Now, if you’ll _please_ give me my Cassiopeia? I’m aching for a cuddle. You’re a brute for keeping her from me.”

Draco did just that. Taking a step back, he observed the scene before him. The twins were busily talking over each other, showing off about their various exploits and their brooms, while Lily was happily explaining to his Mother and Aunty Andi all the facts that she’d learnt from the _Astronomical Treatise_. 

It was a cacophony of noise and love, and Draco knew that if he was going to sneak off upstairs – and steal his five minutes – then now really ought to be the time to do it. 

He simply couldn’t though. His Mother had guessed before him with all the rest of his pregnancies, and if he were indeed in the family way once more, Narcissa would be able to read the truth of it on his face the very minute he returned. Mother wouldn’t be able to resist making some comment on his fecundity or worse, demand that they all decamp immediately to the Manor to live like the wizard aristocracy Mother supposed they were. Draco couldn’t bear to hear any of that nonsense. Not on Christmas Day. If anyone ought to know first, then that person ought to be Harry. 

“Whatever is it, dear?” asked Narcissa, rousing Draco from his swirl of thoughts. “You had a rather particular expression on your face. Is everything alright?” Draco watched her narrow her eyes, her thought process easy to follow. “You’re looking awfully flushed sweetheart. You’ve been feeling quite well?”

Draco shook his head at her blatant digging and ushered his family through into the big room. His Mother had brought a three-tied Christmas cake as well as trifle and a cheesecake and Draco placed them on the table, knowing how scrumptious they all would taste. 

The next couple of hours passed in a whirlwind of activity. Very soon the turkey was roasting a delicious golden brown, while the stuffing and the vegetables baked alongside them. Harry made his signature white sauce while Draco and Mother and Aunty played a rousing game of Exploding Snap with all the children. 

Harry didn’t play, but he came to sit at Draco’s side after a while, entwining their fingers together. There was a warm, unspoken intimacy and Draco leaned into Harry’s side, enjoying his warm solidity. Even after all their years together, Harry’s mere presence was still enough to make the Wrackspurts dance in his tummy. 

Scorpius won several of their games – much to Jamie’s ferocious displeasure – but Draco wasn’t convinced that his eldest twin hadn’t been using some kind of cheating spell. He wouldn’t have put it past him. That young man had more Malfoy genes than was good for him and Draco was in _no_ doubt that he’d be heading down to the Slytherin dungeons for sure. 

In what seemed like no time at all, everything was ready for Christmas dinner and the only thing that was missing was Pansy, Theo and their two sweet children, Melissa and Ariadne. 

Casting a _Tempus_ , Draco decided that now was the time to steal his five minutes and he stood up and made his way to the staircase. 

His luck wasn’t to hold though. No sooner had he gotten his foot on the bottom step when Draco heard the chimes of the Floo once again. He stared contemplatively at the staircase and wondered for a moment whether he simply ought to just carry on. The sound of laughter in the big room stopped him. Draco wasn’t sure yet what his reaction to the test might be. He decided that perhaps the best idea would be to remain in blissful ignorance, at least until after they had eaten Harry’s delicious dinner. 

Pansy looked as beautiful as ever and Draco welcomed her and the rest of the Parkinson-Notts into their home. He hadn’t seen his best-friend in nearly a month but, with a friendship as strong as theirs, the passage of time had long ago ceased to matter. Draco had known Pansy longer than most of the other people in his life and he couldn’t imagine an existence without her being an important part of it. They’d been friends as children – both learning to read with the same tutor in a dusty attic room at the Manor – and she’d been the first person to understand – and _tell_ him – that he was gay. 

Pansy had known Draco’s heart when he’d been too ignorant and bull-headed to understand himself and he’d always be grateful for their friendship. Draco had known Pansy happy, broken-hearted, jubilant and distressed and he felt happy that he knew her as well anyone.

Draco could see Pans was laughing, hugging Harry and wishing Narcissa and Andi a joyful Christmas, but he didn’t think that her smile really reached her eyes. Draco pressed a quick kiss onto Pansy’s cheek. 

“Later,” Draco whispered into her ear. “We’ll talk properly then darling, promise.”

~~

Christmas dinner was soon served. Crackers were pulled, jokes were groaned over and Draco found himself with a dreadful purple paper hat sat atop of his head. 

As always, Harry had outdone himself with the meal and even his Mother hadn’t a word of criticism to share about their feast. Within minutes everyone present had a plateful and were happily eating. Draco was pleased to see Lily was enjoying her food as their eldest could be the pickiest eater in wizarding England whenever she decided it suited her. 

Harry and Theo argued noisily whether the latest Wizengamot Elf-Liberation reforms went far enough but there wasn’t any heat to their words. Despite their less-than-stellar Hogwarts beginning, his and Pansy’s husbands actually got very well. Narcissa and Andi gossiped about their mutual friends and the twins spent their dinner making paper arrows fly around all of their heads. 

Everything might have been a little chaotic, but it felt congenial and happy. Baby Ariadne sat on Theo’s knee but she was grizzly and refused to settle or eat her mashed veggies, even when Harry transfigured the salt pot into a little bouncing ball for her to watch. Aged just eight months, Draco felt for sure that Pansy’s little one was teething, for her cheeks were as red and round as gala apples. 

“Oh love,” Pansy cried as Ari battered the ball to the floor with her hands. The spell broke as it hit the floor, and glass and salt flew in every direction. “She’s been like this all day,” she continued, standing to take her daughter from the arms of her husband. “Sobbed all the time that Melly was opening her presents and just refused to look at hers.” Pansy bounced Ari on her knee as Harry vanished the mess with a single wave of his wand. She looked flat and despondent when she spoke again. “She won’t give us a single _moment_. I’ve fed her and changed her. I simply don’t know what else to do.”

The tiredness radiated from Pansy in waves and Draco’s heart ached for her. It was past exhausting looking after a baby, even if you had the advantage of magic. There had been days when the boys had been small – and hadn’t been sleeping, or eating or had been sick – where he’d imagined that his life had ended. Harry had been working on a big smuggling case and there had been times when he’d been away on a mission where Draco had thought his situation might never improve. Everything had though. It had just taken time. 

He put his fingers out and stroked Ariadne’s dark satin curls. They were every bit as soft as Cassie’s had been at the very same age. 

“It’s all so out of routine,” Draco said, looking over at his best-friend. “Christmas isn’t so much fun for little ones. So many different faces and so much _magic_ … It’s bound to affect her. Here, let me take her,” he said, holding out his hands. “I’ve eaten enough. You spend a few minutes relaxing, love. Eat the rest of your dinner.” Draco took the small baby into his arms and felt the rest of the world fall away from him. Pansy’s baby wasn’t much bigger than his own has been at the same age and Ariadne’s eyes were the same chestnut brown as Pansy’s own. 

Draco thought privately that Ari was far more Parkinson than Nott but he hadn’t like to say anything. Draco smiled down at Ari’s scrunched-up, infuriated face and whispered some sweet nonsense in her direction. Ariadne had the same warmth and weight, and the same crisp, distinct drift of natural magic that tickled his skin. Draco was captivated by her. 

It didn’t take long for the little witch to stop crying and then Ariadne’s eyes shuttered closed, her dark eyelashes fluttering against her chubby baby cheek. Pansy rolled her eyes good-naturedly across the table in his direction. “You must have the magic touch,” she observed, taking a swallow from her wine glass full of fruit juice. Her daughter’s slumber had been enough to put a little cheer back in her features. “Though I’m pretty sure that you just enchanted her. No wix is that good with babies.”

“Draco is,” Harry interjected, placing his Butterbeer bottle down on a coaster. Draco caught a soft flicker of desire in Harry’s ardent gaze. He’d adored watching and helping Draco with their own babies when they were smaller, perpetually amazed and overjoyed that this was really his life. “The magical touch. Babies love him, Pans.”

Narcissa snorted at Harry’s sweet comment. She had very little patience for Harry’s protestations of love and affection. Draco knew that it wasn’t truly her fault: Lucius had been the love of her life and he had let her down in every way that mattered. 

“You’ve barely the space for a crup here,” Narcissa said, placing her knife and fork carefully in the centre of her plate. “So don’t go feeding Draco here ideas about getting himself pregnant once more, Harry Potter!” She shook her head, already resigned to the reaction she would likely receive. “Oh, have more children by all means, if that is what you wish, but I beg of you, move back to wizarding London or at least come back to live at the Manor! You two might feel the need to live out here like a pair of nomads but it’s scarcely a fitting setting for your children! Lily will inherit the Manor and all its lands when she’s older. You both ought to think about reconnecting a little more to your magical heritage.”

Draco buttoned his lip and, thankfully, Harry did also. The flush of annoyance across his husband’s cheekbones didn’t escape Draco’s notice. He decided to make a sharp exit before there were raised voices and a repeat of the trouble of Harry’s birthday party. 

“We’re happy here,” Draco explained pointedly, wanting to shut down any further conversation before it began, “and most of _wizarding London_ desires me back just about as much as it wants a case of the bloody Mufflemumps.” He shook his head. “It really wasn’t magic Pans,” he continued. “Ari could feel the tension in yours and Theo’s arms and so she reacted to it.” He stood, rocking the small bundle in his arms and then had a bright idea.“Shall I put Ariadne down in Cassie’s bed for a while? I still remember my child proofing spells. I’ll magic up some sides so she’ll be perfectly safe.” 

It was the perfect excuse to get away and have five minutes alone. Then he’d have his answer and – if the test showed what he imagined it might – Harry and he would need to have a talk about their family’s future. 

“I’ll come with you,” Pansy said, standing up beside him. “I need a few minutes quiet.”

Draco didn’t reply, though he felt a wave of disappointment as he walked through the house with Pansy following behind him. It seemed he’d been absolutely correct that morning: five minutes _was_ too much to ask for. They didn’t speak until they entered Cassie’s pale mauve bedrooms. The charmed unicorns on her wall noticed their arrival and scurried off as they entered. 

With a blink of wandless magic Draco _Lumosed_ the Snitch-shaped lampshade and set Ari down on top of the fleeced cotton quilt. The baby witch’s eyelids flickered as he laid her on her back – Draco held his breath – but ultimately she was too tired to wake up. 

“There we are,” Draco whispered to the baby. “Doesn’t that feel better?” With a wave of his wand Draco set a child proofing spell and a monitoring charm. “Come into my bedroom,” he murmured, opening the door for Pansy to follow. “This little one should give us both a break for a while.”

Draco soon realised that his best-friend had been teetering on the edge of real distress when she dissolved into tears the very instant that they both sat down on the mattress. A fat tear rolled down her check and she angrily wiped it away with the back of her hand. 

“I’m pregnant,” Pansy said, her voice barely audible. “Pregnant and I thought we were being so careful! I feel so bloody stupid.” Her shoulders trembled and Draco pulled her into his arms, holding her close while she sobbed on his shoulder. Just the action of it felt so very familiar. He’d comforted her like this over repellent boyfriends and grotesque _Prophet_ headlines over the years, and Draco had no doubt that they’d be consoling each other for the rest of their lives. Pansy hiccuped, all her words falling from her mouth at once. “And I feel like I’m falling apart at the seams while you’ve got everything together. I look at you! – your gorgeous children, Harry and this lovely place! – and I _die_ a little with envy each time.” More tears fell then, but she didn’t make a move to wipe them away. “You’ve got everything together yet I’ve failed at nearly everything I’ve tried to do.”

Draco could recognise a cycle of self-recrimination a million miles away. He’d been there himself, more times that he could possibly have counted and he knew how lonely they felt. He was a little shocked at Pansy’s big, exciting, terrifying news but he kept his feeling of surprise to himself: he _really_ wasn’t in any kind of position to criticise. 

“My gorgeous, feral, messy children?” Draco asked with a smile, rubbing his hands in slow circles across Pansy’s back. “We’ve had indoor typhoons this week and grass grass growing on the ceilings. Scorpius even managed to stick Jamie’s lips together. They aren’t the little angels that they might have appeared over dinner.” Draco gave her shoulders a small squeeze. “You should be kinder to yourself, Pans, love! You’re pregnant! All those hormones and a little baby? You’re the heroine here, love. Not me.”

“Not a heroine,” Pansy sniffed, smiling weakly. “Not by any definition of the word. You and Harry though? You’re such a brilliant team. The picture-perfect bloody family! I’m not working right now – Theo is doing most of the care for Melissa and the housework – yet everything at home is still an utter tip. My Mum won’t even _visit_ , Draco!”

“And that’s really so dreadful?” Draco asked her. He had to grin at his best-friend’s words. That scenario sounded rather wonderful to him.“We’re very far from picture-perfect, Pans. _My_ Mother can’t darken our door without finding some criticism of the way that we live; I’m constantly playing go-between and mediator to Lily and Harry’s various battles and Cassie is quite the most dramatic little witch that I think has ever existed.” Draco shook his head. “That’s what life is, isn’t it? A dozen Bludgers, all buzzing around your head! You spend your life flying around, doing you best to avoid an injury!”

“That’s an awful metaphor,” Pansy said. Draco was happy to see the tiniest of smiles play at the edge of her mouth. “Entirely dreadful.”

“But entirely accurate!” Draco said in return, giving his best-friend’s hand a squeeze. “You give me far too much credit, darling. You must remember how distressed I was when the twins were babies and Harry was on that trip to America with MACUSA? I called you round? I couldn’t find my wand! I was half-demented by the time you arrived-”

“You were,” Pansy cut in, giggling at their shared memory. “You hadn’t even washed your hair, love! I never thought that I’d see the day where you forgot to shower. Poor Lily. How your little girl managed to spread that _whole_ jar of Bruise Removal ointment all over herself I’ll never know.”

“I’ve never been so grateful for your _Scourgify_ ,” Draco replied, remembering the relief that he had felt when he’d eventually found his wand amongst their wooden spoons. “She was coated from head to toe. It took us an hour of magic to clean the walls down.” He raised an eyebrow, recalling the appalling sight. “And I never did confess my faux pas to Harry,” Draco admitted. “You know, when Harry Flooed home, he told me how well he thought I’d managed! That he needn’t have worried! I didn’t like to put him right.” He chuckled lightly. “I can laugh about it now, but back then, all I could do was cry!”

“It was actually rather funny,” Pansy said. Draco was pleased to see that some of the sparkle had returned to her brown eyes. Draco knew that she wasn’t normally a witch that easily wore her heart on her sleeve, so she must really have truly upset. She lay her hand on her flat belly. “And, as you can see, it didn’t put me off having my own.”

“See,” Draco said, leaning in to give her dark hair a friendly kiss, “you’re my heroine.”

~~

By the time that Pansy and he returned to the table the main course had been all but annihilated. All of the adults were full of compliments for Harry and equally full of complaints about not being able to move. 

Lily, the twins and Melissa had left the table and were playing a noisy game of Wizard chess and Cassie was playing happily beside them, her Magi-Ark spread out around her. 

“Draco!” Harry said, his eyes lighting up as he and Pansy entered the big room. “We were just about to send out a search party. Everything okay with Ari, love?”

“Absolutely fine,” Draco replied, sliding into place on his husband’s knee. He brushed a kiss on Draco’s cheek, his lips warm and full. There was a sweet scent of red wine about his, but it didn’t tempt Draco to ask for a glass. He wondered for a moment whether that was meaningful before he spoke once more. “I’d say she was sleeping like a baby if everyone at the table didn’t know what an utter fib that cliché was,” Draco said eventually. “She’s fast off for the moment.”

Aunty Andi sipped from her coffee cup, obviously tiring of all the conversation about babies and children. She sat back in her chair, explaining to the table that she had heard exciting news from Teddy about the current Hogwarts staffing situation. 

“They’re sure to need a Transfiguration Professor before the year is out,” she gossiped, adding an extra pinch of sugar to her cup. “Their current wizard – a Monsieur Rouget, I believe – has been tipped to get the Deputy Headteacher's position at Beauxbatons and Teddy feels sure that he’ll be gone by the end of the year. Well, I immediately thought of our Draco, Cissy,” she said, looking in the direction of her sister. “Didn’t he complete his teaching apprenticeship?”

Draco felt the heat rise in his cheeks. Both Aunty Andi and his Mother knew full well that he’d completed his year as a Junior Master at Hogwarts, and that he’d gained record marks too. The two witches never failed to remind him of the fact. He’d been the top tip to get the next Transfiguration vacancy that came up, but then everything had changed for Draco. Harry had come back into his life like a whirlwind and he’d turned it upside down. All of a sudden Draco’s work and reputation hadn’t felt quite any where near as important. 

He’d had been pregnant and living at Twenty-two Alexandra Mews before he could draw breath. 

“Indeed he did,” Narcissa said, looking over at Draco with a searching glance. “Before he gave that up to bear Harry’s brood of babies. I do love my Grandchildren, Draco but perhaps you ought to think about applying, if this job were to come up?” She pursed her lips and cast her eyes over the still-engrossed children. “You’re thirty-six now and you’ve scarcely made your mark on the world. You’ve barely worked or existed outside of these four walls.”

Draco felt Harry stiffen beside him, so he lay a warning hand on his husband’s knee. 

“And that’s the life that I’ve chosen,” Draco said, sitting a little taller in his seat. He looked over at his Mother, tired of the constant veiled criticisms. “Looking after our children wasn’t ever a burden, or a hardship.” He looked over at them. Cassie had gotten tired of her toys and was eyeing the chess pieces with covetous grey eyes. There’d be shrieking and trouble before many more seconds passed. He looked back at his Mother. “I love them. Even on my worst, most difficult day they were still my pleasure.”

Harry glared at Narcissa and when he spoke his voice had a catch to it. 

“And if Draco here wants to apply for that job then he’d have my full support.” He motioned to the big room surrounding them – the Christmas tree, Cassie’s art on the walls and their dozens of photographs – before he squeezed Draco’s hand. “We had a wonderful life here at Alexandra Mews but if Draco wants to remake our lives up in Hogsmeade, then that’s where we’ll go! All I’ve ever wanted for my husband, and our family, is happiness.”

Draco’s head swam at Harry’s words. Teaching, moving to Hogsmeade – leaving Muggle London and their little bubble behind? – the rest of the world felt so alien to him. It felt like some alternative universe: the life that a different Draco, who’d made a series of different choices might have lived. 

He could sense the table gazing in his direction, his family and friends all waiting for him to give some answer but he found that he couldn’t speak. 

Draco felt his face flush and he fiddled with the remnants of a Christmas cracker than had been abandoned, pushing the shiny paper over the smooth wood with his finger. 

Harry carried on speaking, his obvious husband filling the silence left by Draco’s non-reply. “You’ve been a brilliant dad,” Harry said. “But I, and everybody here knows that there’s more to you than just that. I love our babies, but we’ve got four and that’s plenty. You’d be a great Professor too, if that was what _you_ wanted.” 

Draco stood abruptly. He couldn’t wait any longer. “I’ll just only be five minutes,” he whispered into Harry’s ear. “I’ve got something small I want to take care of. I’ll not be gone long.”

~~

Draco held the test in his hand. 

_Five minutes_. That was all he needed. Then he’d have his answer.

As he sat, Draco felt his mind drift back to the test that he’d taken to discover that he was pregnant with the twins. Lily had been playing over with the Weasley cousins and Harry had been a bag of nerves. Five minutes had been far too long for him to sit still, and he’d been on his feet the whole time, fidgeting and restless. He’d spent much of the time cleaning his glasses and Draco had known how truly anxious he must have been, for that was one of his most blatant tells. He’d asked three or perhaps more times whether the five minutes were finally up. Finally, when the test had shone its iridescent purple, Harry had kissed him with a powerful love. 

‘Thank you,” Harry had murmured. “You’ve given me the world.”

It was one of Draco’s favourite memories, one that he returned to whenever their family life felt overwhelming. He remembered the sight of Harry’s sweet adoration and the feel of his kisses on the hardest days; the days where Lily and his husband were close to war, or when the twins were rampaging through their home. The memory was a balm and a comfort to him. Taking a deep breath, Draco sat down on the side of the bathtub. It was already nearly three o’clock and he hadn’t had five blessed minutes to himself. 

Perhaps he ought to take that as some sort of message from the universe. 

He rolled the test over, taking in the picture of the smiling baby on the side. It was now or never. There wasn’t any time like the present. He was just about to undo the packet when Harry’s voice brought him back into his real life. 

“Draco? Is everything alright?” Harry questioned. His voice was accompanied by a muffled knock. There was the unmistakable sound of concern in his voice. “Did I say something wrong? Look, I’m going to come in, love. The way you got up and left… Is everything okay?” 

Harry opened the door and stepped inside. He was red-cheeked, and Draco thought he looked a little weary. He’d been on his feet for most of Chirstmas Day, cooking and caring for their babies. Draco didn’t answer him. He was frightened of the vulnerable emotion that his tone would betray. 

“It wasn’t Andi’s suggestion, was it?” Harry said, coming to sit down beside him. “I thought it was, the way that you jumped up like a startled crup… But there’s something else, isn’t there? You’ve been acting oddly since we got up this morning – quiet, daydreamy – and that isn’t like you. Nobody enjoys Christmas more than Draco Malfoy.”

Draco sighed. Nobody knew him better than Harry did. He took the test out from behind his back and dropped it into Harry’s hand.

“Remember that weekend in Devon a couple of months ago? Greg’s sister’s place? We both of us had a bit too much to drink-”

“And neither of us remembered to say the charm,” Harry finished, frowning at the test and then up at Draco. “You’ve not taken the test yet though?”

“I haven’t had the time,” Draco said with a sad shake of his head. He twisted his wedding ring around his finger and made a small noise that masqueraded as a laugh. “If it wasn’t Lily and you trying to outdo one another, it was guests arriving or poor Pans getting upset! I suppose there’s an irony there somewhere.”

Harry quirked him a half-smile. “There’s no point the pair of us sitting here like two toadstools,” he said, pulling the little plastic stick out of the cardboard. “Come on. I’ll help you, Draco. These things are fiddly, especially if you’re nervous. It’s better to know, surely?”

Nodding, Draco stood up. He undid his trousers and pulled himself out. Then he took the little stick out of Harry’s hand. He was pleased with himself. There was barely a tremble in his fingers as he took the test and passed it back to Harry, who stuck the lid back on and placed it on top of the sink. 

“Five minutes,” Harry said, setting a _Tempus_ spell with a swish of his wand. “It always seems an interminable wait. It's endless.”

Draco made a hum of agreement as he rinsed his hands under the tap. Five minutes felt like a yawning chasm but there was nothing left to be done about it now. All Harry and he could do was wait.

“How long have you suspected?” Harry asked, sitting back down on the bathtub’s edge. A wave of anxiousness rolled over Harry’s expression and rubbed the heal of his hand across his face. “I thought we told each other things like this. Thought that we didn’t have secrets.”

“Not long,” Draco replied. “A few days. It wasn’t so much a suspicion. More an impression than anything.” He sat back down and took Harry’s hand in his own. “A feeling that something had changed.” Draco felt guilty at Harry’s upset but there hadn’t been a deliberate attempt to deceive. “It was Christmas. What with last minute presents and a dozen snatched visits, the conversation simply never happened.”

Harry stoked his thumb over Draco’s hand. 

“Another baby?” Harry queried. “Long nights when they can’t – or won’t – sleep? The nappies? Teething? You _saw_ Pansy earlier. Saw how rung out she was. That’s what sleepless nights look like! What is it that you really want, Draco? Would this baby make you happy?”

“Yes. They would,” Draco replied, as certain as he had ever been about anything. “If you’d have asked me a few week ago then I’d likely have said what you did downstairs: that we’ve already got four and that’s plenty. Now though? Faced with the reality that they might already exist? If I’m really pregnant then I want to have our baby – I want the nappies, the teething, the _everything_ – I want all of it.”

“What about moving to Hogsmeade?” Harry asked, his green eyes searching out Draco’s own. “The Transfiguration Professorship? I wouldn’t ever want you to look back at your life with regrets, Draco. I meant it when I said that all I’ve wanted is your happiness.”

“I’m thirty-six,” Draco said in reply. “They’ll be other opportunities. Other jobs. We’d have to move of course,” Draco answered, not wanting to build his hopes up. Despite his bravado he wasn’t as young as he used to be and male fertility dropped far faster than it did for witches. What he’d felt over the last few weeks might have been his body getting used to the darkness of winter or simply the added tiredness of having Lily home from Hogwarts. “Plenty of room at the Manor,” he suggested. “Mother would have us living in the West Wing in an instant.”

Harry shook his head, scrunching his nose at the idea of permanent residence in Malfoy Manor. “That won’t be necessary,” he answered, slipping his arm around Draco’s middle and placing his head on his shoulder. “I was waiting ‘till we were alone to tell you, but I think I better tell you now. The thing is, I won’t be needing my home office any more, Draco. There’s not going to be any case files come home with me after Christmas. I’ve taken a step-back role at work.”

Of every combination of words that Harry could have spoken, those were possibly the most surprising. Being Lead Auror had been built into Harry’s DNA. He was a Saviour, an Auror through and through and the idea that he might choose to step back from the job was dumbfounding. 

Draco could only gape, open-mouthed, at his husband

“You needn't look so baffled,” Harry explained, letting his other hand come to rest on Draco’s knee. “All these rows that I’m having with Lily? My inability to let her grow up? That’s what twenty years chasing the worst of wizarding society will do to a person.” He sighed quietly. “I’ve taken a job training the new Initiates. Ron and I get to take them under our wing, straight out of Hogwarts. It’ll be a strictly nine to five life from now on. We’ll make my office into a bedroom for Cassie, Draco. We can make this work, love. We don’t have to leave. Twenty-two Alexandra Mews is our home.”

Draco let himself be held as the minutes and seconds ticked away. 

He learned forward and pulled Harry into his arms at the very moment that the _Tempus_ sounded. 

_Five minutes_. That had been all he needed. Now it was up and he’d have his answer.

“I love you,” Draco murmured. He knew that the words weren't enough but they were all that he had. He closed his eyes, burying his head in the knotty wool of Harry’s sweater. “I love you. I love you and I can’t look, Harry! What does it say?”

For a moment there was quiet. 

His pulse raced and his heart danced in his chest. Merlin, but Draco wanted this baby. His soul clung to the future that Harry’s words had promised. He tried to speak, tried to ask but his mouth wouldn’t – _couldn’t_ – form the words. 

“Oh Circe,” came Harry’s tremulous voice, breaking the silence. His big, strong Auror husband was shaking but then so was he. “You need to open your eyes, Draco. You need to look at this test. Iridescent purple, Draco! You’re _pregnant!_ We’re having a baby.”

It was as if, for a moment, the world paused to reorient itself. Draco knew his eyes were wet but he made no attempt to wipe away his tears. 

“It’s the best Christmas present,” Harry said, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you, Draco. Thank you.”

There weren't words for how Draco felt. He’d always been speechless when it came to Harry. Every word in the language was pale and insufficient when it came to this life that Harry and he had made together. 

Harry and he had built a family, a home and genuinely happy lives and now they were going to have another baby to love. He looked across at his husband, amazed. Of all the lives that he might have chosen, Draco would have picked none but this one. 

~~The End ~~

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Christmas and a safe 2021 to all of you.  
> Thank you so much for reading xxxxxx


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